Wedding Anniversary
by Friedrickson2
Summary: Deep down, Bruce always wanted to find someone. His parents' wedding anniversaries had something to do with it.


It was their wedding anniversary today. Or it would have been, if they were still alive.

Bruce walked up to their headstones, a bouquet of flowers in each hand.

He remembered how they used to celebrate their wedding anniversary. He found it stuffy and boring at the time-of course, most children would, but with the hindsight and perspective gained by adulthood, he saw it differently.

Every year, without diversion, his mother and father would make each other breakfast. Then they would exchange gifts with each other-when he was 7, for example, she got him the complete works of Jules Verne, and he got her _Landscape with Cottages_ by Rembrandt.

Whatever day of the week it was, neither of them would go to work-instead they would spend a few hours helping Leslie at the clinic and soup kitchen.

Then, come evening, dinner at 8 and a movie at 9. Bruce would have been off at bed by this point. More than once the following morning, he had come down to find them both asleep together on the couch, just holding each other and looking peaceful.

Pictures like that made Bruce happy-they made him want to grow up so he could maybe get married too (if his parents could be so happy together, couldn't he?).

Pictures like that were scattered through those eight years, not just on the wedding anniversaries. The time they went to the zoo and they were covered in water by an elephant (and Dad's expensive suit was destroyed; but he didn't care-he thought it was funny); when the three of them made a cake together for Alfred's birthday; his first Christmas (he didn't actually remember that, but there were pictures).

Bruce sighed sadly as he stopped in front of their graves.

Those days were all gone now. There would never be any more now, thanks to Joe Chill.

He placed a bouquet on each grave, in front of their headstones.

"Hi Mom. Hi Dad," he said, his voice heavy.

"Happy anniversary. I…I know you can't really hear me, according to Damian, but I like thinking that you can. That I'm keeping you from getting lonely.

"I got you both something, too, for the both of you," he stopped briefly, taking out two wrapped gifts from his coat.

Opening the first one, he laid it down on his mother's grave.

"It's your watch. You know, the one you lost when I was six when we were redecorating my room? Well, Alfred and I finally found it, and I felt you should have it back, so it doesn't get lost again."

He opened the second gift and laid it down on his father's grave.

"Yeah, a stethoscope. Tacky, I know. But I know you'll really like the thought of it."

* * *

Bruce looked at the two headstones, beginning to look decayed and misshapen thanks to years of abuse from the elements.

He continued speaking. "Anyway, I said it already, but happy anniversary, both of you. You know, I always felt happy deep down, looking at you both being happy with each other on all those past todays-back then, it made me want to be like you both even more than I already did."

In his head, he added the words 'Like I do now.'

"Anyway," he continued, sitting down on the grass and crossing his legs, making sure not to touch the graves, "you remember Selina, right? I brought to visit you both about three years ago. Well, she's back. And I just wanted to let you know what I'm doing, because I'll be meeting her tonight in the city."

He took out a velvet box and held it on display.

"I always thought about finding someone, thanks to seeing how happy you both were. When I said my promise all those years ago, I always thought about how that feeling would react to what I wanted."

He looked at the box, and then the graves.

"You want me to stop talking and just ask her, I know. Thanks. I will."

He got up. "Happy anniversary."

* * *

 **AN: This came about because I wanted to keep myself busy.**

 **Remember to review!**

 **Batman created by Bob Kane with Bill Finger. Ownership goes to DC Comics (a Time Warner company).**


End file.
